


Give Me Your Hands, If We Be Friends

by hesterbyrde



Series: What Carries Weight [5]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, Bruises, Dom Phil Coulson, Established BDSM Relationship, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Flogging, Fluff, Kink Negotiation, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Rope Bondage, Sexual Content, Spoilers, Sub Melinda May, Suspension, Top Phil Coulson, Vaginal Fingering, Whipping, bottom melinda May
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-14
Updated: 2015-03-14
Packaged: 2018-03-17 21:29:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3544436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hesterbyrde/pseuds/hesterbyrde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takes place at an indeterminate point between 2x08 and 2x10. There are mild spoilers about the alien writing.</p>
<p>Phil has spent a week contriving excuses to be the one to fetch the mail every day. But he's expecting a delivery: a pair of floggers and some rope.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Give Me Your Hands, If We Be Friends

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is fairly uncoupled from the direct plot of the show, but it does contain a spoiler about the alien writing.
> 
> The title is taken from Shakespeare's "A Midsummer Night's Dream."
> 
> Many thanks to KaminaDuck and HexMeridian for beta-reading. And thanks to you for reading! Feedback and love is always appreciated!

At first, Phil and Melinda were awkward. Like a pair of newborn foals, fumbling and stumbling and still not quite used to the concept of having legs. They had both grown so accustomed to the careful dance of suggestion and implication that it took them a long while to consistently be frank and ask for the things they wanted. Much less bring themselves to actually negotiate kink properly, even though they both very much wanted to have that conversation.

But strangely enough, they found a great deal of joy in the gawky, high-schoolish phase of their relationship. They laughed at themselves more than they'd laughed at anything in many, many years. And they did properly negotiate their shared kinks eventually. Phil even made a shopping list, and did some online ordering, which meant more awkward shenanigans as Phil had to contrive reasons for the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D to be the one to fetch the mail every day for a week.

“So, I saw you got a box in the mail the other day.” Melinda chided him as they finished up the day's reports. “Your mom send you more cookies?” 

“Well,” Phil dragged the word out, grinning sheepishly. “After we talked last week, I took the liberty of doing a little online shopping.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. The delivery came in a few days ago, but we've been busy with the search for the alien city, so I didn't get a chance to talk to you about it.”

“Would you want to talk about it when we're done? It's after dark.”

“Sure.” he responded with a grin.

Melinda leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Let me swing by my room and get some sleep clothes, and-”

“Oh, just wear mine.” he said dismissively as he stacked a batch of documents into their folders and passed them to her.

“But they're too big on me.”

“I know. It's cute.”

“I would break a lesser man's kneecaps for calling me cute.”

“I know. I've seen you do it.” It was his turn to give her an affectionate peck. “Lucky for us both, I'm not a lesser man. Besides, I'm not too keen on you wearing anything to bed anyway.” He fixed her with that mischievous smirk that always made her knees weak. “Come on, the rest of this can wait until morning.” he tugged at her hand, dragging her easily out of the office. 

When Phil's bedroom door was safely closed and locked behind them, Melinda began shuffling out of her boots. “So, we talked about a lot of things.” she said. “What did you actually end up getting?”

“Go take a look. Top of my footlocker.” he pointed as he worked to rid himself of his own shoes.

“You mean you've started an actual toy box?” she said, smiling brightly as she padded over to the foot of the bed.

“I guess you could say that. Cynthia would be proud of me.”

“The owner of that S&M club in Seattle?”

“That's her.”

“We should go back there.”

“I'll talk to the head of S.H.I.E.L.D and see if we can contrive a reason for Hydra to be suddenly invading the state of Washington.” he replied with a snide grin. “Go on! Open it.”

Melinda popped the latch and lifted the lid with a creak. Her eyebrows arched towards her hairline as she surveyed the contents: coils of soft, russet rope, a few bits of glinting steel rigging hardware, and two floggers. One flogger was lightweight with a slim handle, and red and black rubber fringe that reminded Melinda amusingly of an oversized cat toy. The other was made of thick, supple leather. She looked back at Phil, not sure what to say. Already she could feel arousal coiling low and hot in her belly. Her cheeks colored when she realized that she had no idea if Phil actually intended on using any of this tonight. Still, she certainly knew what she hoped.

“May I... May I touch?” she asked, voice faltering.

“Of course, go ahead. They're going to be used on you after all. You should have a close look.” Phil said, shoving his hands in his pockets and stepping closer with a slight smile on his lips. 

Melinda touched the rope first. She ran her hand over it lightly as if it were a skittish cat, before knitting her fingers into the coils. It was as soft and pliable as it looked, but also sturdy. And it clearly had been conditioned by hand. Next, her hands traveled to the large leather flogger. She picked it up, clearly finding it heavier than she expected. The matte black leather woven across the thick handle was soft and plush under her grip. She brushed the thongs back and forth over the back of her hand, feeling how it tickled her skin. Phil watched with fascination as she handled the flogger. He knew she could probably wield it to great effect, but right now she looked like a non-musician handling a violin.

“Do you approve?” he asked after a moment, eyes crinkling with amusement.

She nodded with an uncharacteristically shy grin. “I do. Would... would you like to pull any of it out tonight?”

Phil swallowed and shrugged, looking down at the toys and at the flogger still in Melinda's hand. “I certainly would like to. Would I be asking too much if I did?”

“No, of course not.” Melinda said softly, shaking her head. “I'm offering, actually.” There was that dance of implication and suggestion rather than asking outright. Perhaps it would never be truly gone.

“I actually have one other thing to show you.” Phil said, holding up a finger.

“Oh?” Melinda set the flogger back in the chest and followed him a few paces as he stepped to the center of the bedroom and pointed up. Melinda squinted to focus in the dim light, and saw that he pointed to a heavy steel ring bolted to the ceiling.

“It's a hard tie point. I installed it myself.” Phil said proudly, raising up on his toes to tug on the ring. “That ring is bolted to the stud in the ceiling. The hardware graded for three hundred pounds. I could suspend you from it if you'd like that. Hell, I could probably suspend Mack from it, but I'd probably need help. And stronger rope. ”

“I... I would. Like that, I mean.” She huffed out a laugh. “Wow, you've been busy.”

“Patience has never been my strong suit... but planning is.” he responded with a shrug and a smile. “So, you'd like to play tonight?”

Melinda nodded mutely.

“I know no rope around the neck. Anything else?”

She shook her head.

“You're good with both the floggers?”

Again, she nodded.

He closed the distance between them, sliding his hands around her waist and feeling her sag back into his grip. “Just so you know, I've got a box cutter in the drawer of the bedside table in case we have an emergency. I want to use the color system as well as your safe word until we get more comfortable. Like we talked about?”

She nodded again as her hands slid up his chest. He felt solid and wonderful under his crisp blue dress shirt. “Green is good. Yellow is something's not right. Red is stop. Safe word is full withdrawal of consent.” she recited.

It was his turn to nod. He leaned down and kissed her. He had meant it to be chaste and gentle, but they both realized it had been the first time that their lips had met in over twenty four hours. It quickly became a heated tangle of tongues graced by the barest scrape of teeth. When they pulled back, both their faces were flushed and they laughed. Phil leaned down and rested his forehead against hers, fingers caressing her lower back. Her laughter was music to his ears. After a long moment he spoke, his voice still warm but holding a fresh, commanding edge. “Tell me your safe word, please.” he asked, softly. 

Melinda's mouth quirked into a smile. He always asked that question before they started. And he always said “please.” It was a request. His last request for the evening. Once she confirmed her safe word, everything that came after would be orders. It was her last chance to say no without having to resort to actually safe-wording. And it was the last time she would hear “please” tonight, unless he forced it from her lips. Which if she had to judge by the glint in his eyes, he probably would.

She took a deep, grounding breath. “Serendipity.”

“Remove your clothes.” he instructed, as he released her and turned away towards the bed. 

His commanding tone added to his sudden absence made Melinda's head spin a little, but she did as she was told. She quickly stripped herself bare, placing her clothes over the back of a chair. As she did so, she carefully glanced up at Phil, not wanting to get caught watching him. He wasn't looking at her. He busied himself retrieving the coils of rope and the steel hardware from the foot locker.

“Give me your hands. About one foot apart, palms facing inward.” He said, his voice flat and demanding. She did as she was told and he slipped the rope over each of Melinda's wrists, looping and wrapping it back on itself to form a set of handcuffs. He gave them an experimental tug, and slipped an index finger through the cuffs to check their tightness over her pulse points before looking up at Melinda. “Too tight? Too loose?”

Melinda twisted her wrists, appreciating the fact that the rope was firm but not rough. Through guile and a dislocated thumb she could probably free herself, but she wouldn't do that. And they weren't so loose she felt they might slip off if she struggled. “They're fine, sir.” she said softly.

“Color?”

“Green.”

He nodded and retrieved a second length of rope, hitching it around the cuffs and securing it to a steel hook. “Hands over your head.” He instructed as he backed her under the tie point. She raised her arms and he lifted her the last few inches onto the ring of the tie point. When he released her, she could just barely reach the ground flat-footed.

Phil tugged at the knots and then stepped back to admire his handiwork. Melinda hung limply from the ceiling, hair cascading across her face and fanning out over her breasts. She looked up, and the expression on Phil's face nearly stole her breath. She had seen his eyes go dark with desire and dominance, but not like this. His expression promised... use. That was the only word she could think of to describe it. And it both frightened and thrilled her.

Phil licked his lips and began to undress himself. Melinda made a small noise, and swayed towards him in the restraints. Undressing him was usually her duty, but tonight apparently he was going to deny her that pleasure. When she gave away her disappointment, his face cracked a cruel smile. He chose to take his time, peeling off each layer with meticulous care and draping each piece of clothing carefully so it wouldn't wrinkle. He unclasped his black leather belt and pulled it off with a soft, slithering sound.

“You know,” he said playfully, stalking around behind her, with the belt looped in one hand. Melinda tried to follow him, but she was bound in such a way that she couldn't. “Sometime, when we're bored in the office, I could improvise.” He drug the edge of the belt down her spine, reveling in the full body shiver that rippled under her skin. “I take it you're interested?”

She nodded as much as the restraints allowed. “Yes, sir.”

“Excellent. I'll be sure to keep that in mind.” He tapped her on the ass with the belt once, just hard enough to make her jump before he tossed the it on the chair with the rest of their clothes. He slid both hands along her flanks, feeling her tremble under his touch as his fingers brushed over her nipples. She let out a little gasp and arched against him, feeling his hard cock press into her back. “God, you're exquisite, Melinda. And eager. Who would ever guess?” He breathed against her neck as he began rolling her nipples between his fingers, gently at first but slowly gaining pressure. Melinda went from writhing against his body to twisting and pulling in her restraints as his touch turned uncomfortable. “I'm going to have fun with you tonight. Stand with your feet apart and your head down.”

He released her and she complied. He returned to the footlocker to retrieve the floggers, making sure she saw the rubber one in his dominant hand before he stepped out of her view. He carefully parted her hair over her shoulders, before he began dusting her back with light blows from the rubber fringe. His rhythm was even and slow, and each blow had just enough force to sting. She jumped at first but quickly became accustomed to his rhythm. Each time he sensed she had adjusted, he upped the amount of force in his swing, making her jump and twitch all over again. Soon her back was rosy and lightly sheened with sweat, and her breathing was shallow and tinged with soft moaning.

She heard a rustle behind her and she knew he was switching to the heavier leather flogger. Unconsciously, she braced for the impact, muscles bunching under her skin. But she yelped with surprise when instead of striking her he trailed the soft leather tails across the curve of her ass. She twisted and shivered in place as he pressed his lips to her ear. 

“Do you think pain is the only way I have to torture you?” he teased, as he pulled her back against him, rolling his hips so she could feel how hard he was just from the warm-up. “You must think me so uncreative.”

The tone of his voice blew Melinda's smoldering arousal into full flame, making her gasp and arch back against him.

“Y'know, I have to admit. I've not ever used one of these that's quite so weighty before.” He painted the tails of the leather flogger along thighs. “I'll be curious to see what it does.”

He stepped back abruptly and snapped the whip down across her upper back. The first blow made Melinda cry out. And again with the second and third strikes. Then, Phil dropped the rubber flogger and reached forward to grab her hair wrenching her head back and making her gasp with surprise. Her eyes were wide with fear and pain, but the pupils had gone dark with arousal. “Must you make so much noise?” he asked in a sharp, condescending tone.

She shook her head as much as the angle and his grip allowed. “N-no sir.” 

“Then keep quiet unless I ask you to do otherwise.” He released her hair and stepped back again.

“Yes, sir” she replied, fighting to keep her voice even.

“Color, Melinda?”

“Green, sir.” She responded, speaking as distinctly as she could. She placed her feet apart, bowed her head, and braced herself.

The whip whistled through the air again, thudding against her upper back. Melinda bit her lip to keep herself silent. The next blow came raining down before the pain of the first had begun to dissipate. And then another, and another, until her whole back was nothing but a bone-deep, aching fire. Melinda felt herself slipping into that still place in her mind where all the sensations began to run together and she welcomed it. She could feel the heat and the pain of her abused back which grew with each thudding blow. She could feel the growing stiffness in her shoulders, and the chafe of the rope at her wrists. Not to mention the wetness dripping down her inner thighs. She could hear her own breathing, hollow and even. And she could hear Phil behind her, his breath coming in short pants. And she was vaguely aware of the taste of blood in her mouth. Apparently, she was still biting her lip.

She must've made some sound because Phil hesitated. She heard him say, “Color, Melinda?” 

She had to lick her lips twice to get her mouth wet enough to answer. “Green, sir. So green...”

Instead of returning to his rhythmic whipping, Phil stepped around in front of her and use the handle of the leather flogger to lift her chin. Her face was slack, and flushed red. Sweat beaded at her temples as she panted. God, but she was beautiful like this. She would probably crawl on the floor if he asked her to, but degrading her had never been part of his fantasy. Only teasing apart the tightly wrapped creature that was Melinda May.

Phil slipped his fingers between her thighs, and pressed the pad of one finger against her clit. She gasped as he made small, slippery circles over her swollen flesh. She made to close her eyes and drop her head, but Phil jerked with the whip under her chin. “Look at me.” he ordered, watching her eyes fly open immediately. “Can you move against my hand?”

“Yes, sir.” she answered, shakily as she twisted in her restraints.

“Good. I want you to get yourself off on my fingers. I'm not going to move. You do it to yourself. And don't close your eyes. Can you do that?”

“Yes sir.” She repeated, and began experimentally moving her hips. She caught a shallow rhythm right away, just the slightest roll of her hips that had her clit sliding deliciously over his fingers. The world was still fuzzy and frozen. Everything in that moment ran together. The cool air on her abused back, and the filthy slip of Phil's fingers between her legs. The dark look on his face as he watched her pleasure herself. The commanding tone of his voice.

Do it to yourself. For me to watch. 

He hadn't said that last part, but he'd meant to imply it if his starved and debauched expression was any indication. That realization sent her spinning into the climax she was ordered to seek far quicker than she was expecting. She gasped and jerked in her restraints, grinding herself against his hand as her orgasm plowed over her in a dizzying rush. She wanted to collapse against him, but the whip and the ropes frustratingly held her away from him.

“Very good.” he praised her as she swayed. Using the handle of the whip that still rested under her chin as a lever, he secured himself a sloppy kiss that he didn't fail to notice tasted slightly of blood. “I'm going to let you down, and then I'm going to fuck you over the bed, because that little show has made me impatient. Color?”

“Still green, sir.” she panted, her voice thick and blissful.

“Can you stand?”

“I think so.”

“I'll keep an arm around you just in case.” He tossed the flogger aside and carefully lifted her up, unhooking the rope cuffs from the steel ring. When he set her down again, she swayed for a second in his arms before she could steady herself. Then she went obediently, if a little precariously, to the bed, bent forward on her elbows, and spread her legs.

It was an obscene display that made Phil harder than he'd ever imagined he could be. One of the deadliest people to ever live, spreading herself open for him just because he'd told her to. She'd do a thousand things if he told her to. Fly halfway around the world. Take a bullet for someone. Suck his cock until he came down her throat. He couldn't help but touch himself through his suit pants as he took a shuddering breath.

He sidled up behind her, pulling his cock loose from his pants and underwear as he walked. When he reached her, he gripped her neck with one hand as he slowly sank into her, finding her slick, and hot, and delightfully greedy. His hips stuttered at first before finding a rhythm because the sight below him took his breath. Melinda's face, turned in profile, was one of utter rapture. Her back was a garden of bruises, flowering red and purple on her lovely skin. And his cock kept disappearing into the folds of her deliciously wet pussy. He owned her. He owned this. 

He was aware she was whispering something. “Color?” he managed to ask.

“G-green.” she responded, speaking a little louder. “I... please...”

She had been saying “please.”

“Please what, Melinda?”

“I want to come.” she asked, her voice small. “A...again.”

“You are needy tonight.” he tried to tease, but his voice was rough with his own building climax.

“I'm sorry, I... you feel amazing.”

He leaned down and kissed the bruising hollow of her spine. Her skin was scalding hot. “So do you.” he breathed, watching goosebumps rise under his lips. “Of course, you may come again. You've earned it tonight, I think.” He tightened his grip on her neck and sped up his thrusting. His orgasm was sudden, sending him careening off the edge as he pounded into her. He could feel Melinda writhing underneath him, calling his name with her body squeezing and fluttering around him, but it was taking all his strength and concentration to stay upright and not collapse onto her.

As he slipped out of her, she pooled herself in the fetal position on the bed, and he thudded to his knees on the floor. Phil rested his chin on his forearms at the edge of the bed and watched her drift through her aftershocks.

“Color?” He asked again.

She looked up at him, and gave him the most blissful smile as she took his hand. “Greenest of green.” she half-whispered. “You?” 

“Green.” he nodded, smiling until the crow's feet at the corners of his eyes crinkled. He carefully helped her out of the rope restraints and tossed the tangle into the footlocker. “I'm going to grab a towel and some lotion for your back. You want some water?”

“That would probably be a good idea.” she murmured, drowsily.

“I'll be right back.” Phil ditched his suit pants before fetching everything he'd listed. He gave her a drink, cleaned her up, and helped her stretch out on her stomach. Even with two orgasms still sending shivers through her limbs, she was still a little stiff. “So, any feedback?” he asked once she was comfortable.

She shrugged as he began gingerly dabbing lotion over the mottled skin of her back. “I could probably go for longer with the whipping. But probably not much longer being suspended like that.”

“Did you like being suspended though?”

“Yes.” She was quiet as she thought for a moment. “It was interesting because I had almost full range of motion, but I couldn't really do anything to... help myself. Unless y'know... I felt like breaking things.”

“All the same, I'll look into getting a tie point or something for the wall.” Phil said, kissing her cheek.

“How'd you learn to do the rope cuffs. Those were fancy.”

“I... um... I... well, do you want the honest answer?”

She giggled. “Oh, this ought to be good.”

“I saw where someone had made a pair of cuffs like those in a BDSM photo shoot awhile back, and just looked up how to do it on the internet.”

“You were looking at porn.” she said flatly, opening one eye to leer at him.

“I knew that would be the take-away on that one.” He sighed. “But seriously... It's a font of great ideas if you are looking in the right places.”

“Oh, I know, trust me. I just couldn't resist ribbing you a little.”

“Can I make a request for something new?”

“Of course.”

“Candle wax?” he asked.

She shrugged again. “Sure. I've always wanted to try that actually.”

“I'll order some candles, then.” He closed the cap on the lotion bottle and curled up next to her. She snuggled against him, pillowing her head on his chest.

“You'll have to come up with some new excuses to pick up the mail.” she teased.

“Or I could make you do it.”

“Or you could make me do it.” she echoed with a good-natured sigh. She levered herself up for a kiss before collapsing back down across his chest and allowing sleep to claim her.


End file.
